Hidden Angels
by ashleebabe
Summary: Love. A story of a broken heart and freewilled spirit intertwined. A love story involving Phantom of the Opera and hints of Beauty and the Beast. The chapters have been fixed and now begin at the prologue not Chapter one. Please Read and Review
1. Prologue

Author's Note: I have not written anything in a total a three years. Please review this. I would love to improve. I do not own Phantom of the Opera nor any indication from Beauty and the Beast. The Erik in this story is the very handsome Gerard Butler and the mask is only cover the left side of his face.

Happy reading

Prologue

Love.

How can you describe it? Is it something that can be seen or heard? Can you touch love like the petals of a rose? Love is something of a mystery in life. You are not born to know of it and you die only knowing a memory of it. Love is a blissful elated feeling several people in a lifetime can have. True love, is experienced once in a century. What is the difference between True love and love? Love is something that dies within you, but you can live with the pain of the loss. True loves is when your love is gone and there is nothing that you can do to make the pain go away. It's so intense that all you can do is find ways to return to your love.

Erik thought love was a myth, a simple fairy tale for the young and naïve. He did not know any kind of love. His birth was an accident at most. He was a surprise to his mother. She had birthed a boy before Erik was born and within a ten minutes of each other. Although Erik was a healthy babe, his face was a tragedy. The left side of his face had deformed and from then on his fate was made. His father was the ruler of a small English village. When news of his son's births reached him, he was more than excited. Once arrived he saw little Erik and embraced him as the true heir to his throne. His brother, who was named Lucas, was sent to live with a maiden aunt until his father chose who he wished his rightful heir to be.

As the years passed, the King spoiled his deformed son while his mother moved in with her maiden sister and her perfect boy, Lucas. Erik learned how to fence, fight, ride and manage the village he was to one day rule. But Erik had other passions. He was a magician, and architect, an artist and above all a musician. His father told him that he should focus on his other gifts but music was his first love. But when his father died, Erik was left to his destiny.

One night, an old beggar man approached the door of Erik's palace. The palace was beautiful, one to outshine the Palace of Versailles in Paris. When Erik saw the man, he merely scoffed but allowed that man in. He was nothing more than a mere merchant traveler in need of shelter. Erik's attitude was cold and dark. The man feared for his life. But the man was not an ordinary merchant. He was a mystic, a man known to dabble in the magical arts. When the man left, he laid a curse upon Erik and his lovely palace. If the man surrounded by beauty could not find beauty in himself then he is condemned to a half life like his face. Until he could find beauty in himself and another who sees him as a man not a monster, then shall he become whole. The day the man left, Erik felt a dark presence fall over his castle. Every plant was killed, every statue blackened in age. Erik looked on his horror as his home was transformed. The only thing that was saved from the dark incantation was his beloved red roses.

Years passed, and Erik did not age a bit. Frozen in his prime of life and locked within his castle, he waited for the woman that would one day set his heart free.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Marguerite, if you do not watch where you are going, you are sure to fall in a ditch," cried out one of the townspeople as she looked up from her book for a moment. She was engrossed in that tragic tale of a two men and the woman they both loved. She sighed contently as she placed a ribbon on her last finished page and focused on where she was going. Being new to the town, Marguerite and her father had not lived in the village long but long enough to know that they did not fit in.

Her father, Jacob, was a musician, a violinist, and played his instrument passionately until the death of his wife the previous year. He seemed to be lost without her. His daughter, Marguerite, was the only reason he kept living. She was breath of fresh air. Her long chocolate curls mimicked his own however her blue eyes could have been her mother's. They looked so much alike; it hurt him sometimes to look at her. Her skin was flawless and the color of freshly churned cream. Her eyes were so blue, they put sapphires to same. Her stature was small, only about five feet tall but her spirit easily made up for it. She was well-educated in reading and writing, unheard of for a woman of eighteen. But the one thing that set her away from the rest of the women in her village was her voice. She sung like an angel and often was complemented on her ability.

After finding a spot by a nearby fountain, Marguerite opened her book once more only to be interrupted by some of the local passerby, mainly the local boys out for some skirt chasing. "Marguerite, when are you going to come out with us? One night sweetheart and I can have you screaming with pleasure." The sneers in their voices made her skin crawl. She did not let them have the last laugh though. She looked up and smiled up at them as they towered over her. With her hand in the fountain water, splashed the men in front of her.

"Perhaps you need something to cool you down." She muttered as she left with her belongings and headed to her small cottage on the outskirts of the town.

One of the main leaders of the group, Gerard, fancied himself in love with Marguerite. She was the most beautiful woman in the village and he had to have her as his wife. He was loved by all who lived within the town itself and the women through themselves at him. All except Marguerite, that is. He had coffee colored hair, green eyes and a muscular tone to his body from years of hunting. Among all things, he was the governor's son, which made him undeniably rich and socially expectable. Marguerite only saw a pompous overgrown child. He watched her leave to her home only to vow that he would make her his wife one day soon.

On her way to her home, she passed by the woods that were said to be haunted. "Come on, old girl, it's just a forest nothing more." She hurried her pace as she edged the forest. When her cottage came into view and the woods began to fade from her sight, she could have sworn she heard the winds and the trees calling to her.

Her cottage was a simple home made up of two bedrooms, a parlor, a kitchen and a drawing room. It was nothing fancy but this was Marguerite's home. Her father was more than likely in the cellar below the cottage playing his violin or out in his garden tending his flowers.

"Papa, I am home. Where are you hiding?" She called out as she shed her cloak and placed her books on a little table by the door. She did not hear any music coming from below so she headed out into the garden.

"Papa, you should be getting inside soon. The weather looks as though it may rain. I cannot have you catch a dreadful cold." She said as she sat next to him on a bench in the mists of their own Eden.

"My Marguerite, all you do is take care of me. When you are going to let someone take care of you?" Her father asked as he did everyday when she came home to fuss over him. Jacob had recently been bombarded with men coming to claim Marguerite's hand in marriage but none of the suitors were good enough for her. Of course Marguerite knew nothing of these men or their purposes. There was one man all the way in Ireland who had seen and heard of her beauty through his travels and wanted her as his bride, but Jacob could not lose her so soon after he lost his wife.

"Marguerite I have some business to attend to out of town and I shall be gone for three days. During that time I want to truly think about settling down. As much as it hurts for me to lose you to another man, I must insist that you marry someone before it is too late."

"Papa," Marguerite said tired of hearing the same speeches over and over again. "I cannot think of anyone that may be stimulated by me. All they see is my features not my mind. I do not think I can live with that type of man." It was the same excuse every time her father brought up marriage. It was like a never ending cycle. "Now come inside and I shall fix us a nice stew. I baked some bread yesterday so we should have a hearty meal before you have to go in the morrow."

Jacob muttered under his breath about demanding women and went into the kitchen and sat down at the table to help. Marguerite fixed their evening meal and soon made a chore of cleaning the mess she had made and handling his affairs for his trip in the morning. She went out into the barn and brushed the horses' manes and tails. She feed and watered the cows and pigs and tended to the chickens. The sun had sunk into the horizon and moon begun to creep up into star-filled sky. Just about when she was going to go in for the night, she heard the winds whisper her voice once more. She looked around alarmed but could not find the source of the voice. Making her way through the house and extinguishing the candles, she could not help but feel like she was watched. Marguerite readied herself for bed and blew out the last of the lit candles. In her dreams however, she was haunted by a passionate melody and a man with the haunting voice to match.

Jacob, however, sat by the fire a little longer after his daughter retired. He told her he was going up soon but it was not entirely the truth. He opened up his pocket watch which held a picture of his wife and a younger version of his daughter. The tears began to pour from his crinkled eyes. There was so much sorrow in him he needed to release so he may, some day, heal. "Why did you leave me?" He whispered as he closed the watch and wiped his eyes.

It was time for him to let his daughter live her life and not stay in his. He rose from his seat by the fire with determination in his eyes. It was time. He would go and meet this suitor in the neighboring town and see his daughter off and married by the end of the year. Once he went into his room, he avoided opening his wife's wardrobe as he dressed from his own. Blowing out his final candle he prayed that God would send him the answers and hopes he needed.

Meanwhile, in the dark palace within the woods he watched through his telescope, a mirrored device he created during his solitude, Erik watched the girl edge across the woods. She was absolutely beautiful. The way she held herself regally made him wonder what made her act so. She intrigued as no other had in a long while. Perhaps Erik would have to keep a closer watch on this one.

His few remaining servants had went into town for supplies today and reported about the comings and goings of the townspeople. Many were just oblivious to man who lived within the woods and ruled their lands secretly but there were others who stood in his way. His brother had abdicated his rights to rule after his mother died and joined the church in Rome. However, the governing class believed that they were kings themselves. They imposed taxes and laws that contradicted Erik's. _But soon_, he thought as the sun set over the forest, _soon I shall return_.


	3. Chapter 2

The next morning, Marguerite saw her father off on his horse. He looked troubled, but Marguerite did not want to pry. "Safe journey Papa... Remember if you get the least bit tired, I want to stop at any of the local inns. Take as long as you need to get to your destination." Marguerite added hoping that her father would not over-exert himself.

"I will, my lovely. Please think on what I said." Jacob added as the horse began to trot from the cottage.

Marguerite only waited until the horse was out of view before she returned to her chores. She readied her feed for the chickens and cows and began to spread the seeds. When she went back inside for a glass of water, there was a knock on her door. When she looked through the door's viewing glass, she saw it was Gerard holding what appeared to be a bouquet of flowers.

Gerard smiled through the glass as Marguerite finally opened the door. "Hello Gerard, what can I do for you today?" She asked as she wiped her hands on her apron and brushed a few curls out of her face. "I am rather busy and my father is not available at the moment. Perhaps another day would be better." She began to shut the door but his slipped his foot through.

"Not so fast lovely," Gerard said as he made his way through the door and into the entryway. "I am here to ask you a question Marguerite. A simple yes or no will suffice, I say." He said as he took her hand in a tight grip.

Marguerite knew where this was going and she tried to free her grip from his. "Gerard, I am flattered but I do not see you that way." Marguerite took a safe step back into the room.

"But we will make such wonderful children together. Smart and beautiful and strong. Just say yes to me and all of your problems will be solved." Gerard remarked as he shut the door and advanced on Marguerite. She did not back down but she had a plan.

She led him towards the kitchen and then forced him out the back door. "Please do not return until I have invited you personally. I do not think that shall be much of an issue in the future." She shouted as he stood up and faced the window she was yelling from. He huffed his way around to the front and looked over to his friends.

"This is just round one, boys. I will make a guarantee she will marry me."

Jacob had made his way to the outskirts of town when his horse veered off into the forest. Although Jacob held the reigns, the horse moved on its own accord. After a moment Jacob found out why. The most beautiful and intoxicating music filled the dark woods. The horse stopped at the gate of the blackened palace. He opened the gate to see where the music was coming from. Being a musician himself, the music sung in his veins as he opened the door. The music stopped and the only noise was the creaking of the buildings surrounded him. Jacob called out to see if anyone would reply, but it was dead silence. He found the kitchens and saw there were fires roaring and food being cooked. However, there was not a soul in the area. He went out into the gardens and saw all the dead vegetation and wilting flowers and trees. But out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the roses. Erik's precious roses. Jacob took out a small knife and cut a rose free from the bush. That aggravated the owner immensely but Jacob had no way of knowing. "She will love this," he exclaimed as he pocketed the knife and made his way over to the kitchen door he had walked out through to come outside.

The atmosphere had seemed to change once he re-entered the house. The fires had dimmed considerably and there was no longer a warm presence to the place. "Hello?" He called out as he walked back into the entryway looking for another sign of other people.

"What makes you think that you can come into my home and take what was not offered?" A deep, dark, menacing voice reverberated throughout the cavernous room. Erik wanted this man to be scared but he did not shrink in fear as others would. "Do you have any idea where you are?"

"I have not taken anything of value, I assure you." Jacob answered as she still looked for the source of the voice. "I heard music and my horse led me to here. I did not mean to interrupt anything." He added but it seemed to be too late.

"You took something from me; I shall do the same to you. What do you cherish the most in this world? What keeps you calm in the face of a storm? A wife perhaps?" Erik drawled trying to find the man's weak points.

"Why should I tell you? You want to take what I have away from me. I have not wife, she died this last passing year, and God rest her soul." Jacob battled tears but held his ground. "It's just me and my…" He did not want to finish that sentence.

"You and your," Erik asked waiting for the man to complete the sentence. He tensed at the mere thought of the word daughter. "Your _daughter_. Bring her here. She now belongs to me or I shall kill you both." The ruthless manner he portrayed was more a defense mechanism than a real threat.

"But she is all I have sir, please." Jacob pleaded but it seemed no use. The wind whipped the door and he followed the instructions to retrieve his daughter.

"If you try to leave with her or send her away, know I will be watching you." It was Erik's last words as the doors closed behind the old man.

As Jacob re-mounted his horse and took one last glance at the castle, he sighed. "What have I done to you Marguerite?" He muttered as he trotted and raced home to see his daughter one last time.

Erik watched the man from his viewing tower and laughed. "Soon I shall have a woman in my house. Perhaps she would save my soul." He whispered gently to his man servant Jonas. "Prepare a room by nightfall."


End file.
